


Cûron

by Vablatsky



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vablatsky/pseuds/Vablatsky
Summary: After the Council of Elrond has ended, Boromir needs to tell someone a bed-time story.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galadriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/gifts).



Night had fallen over Rivendell. Not long ago urgent voices had discussed the fate of the One Ring and the future of elves, dwarves and men, but now the silence was hanging like a soft veil around the House of Elrond. Only a lone, tall shadow was making his way through the dark corridors, clutching a small lantern in his right hand. He stopped in front of a wooden door, looking over his shoulder to make sure he had arrived at the right place, and gently pushed it open.

Aragorn was lying in his bed, reading a large, leather-bound book that was illuminated by a silver candle stand. Flickering lights danced across his bare chest, but when he looked up he didn’t seem particularly surprised to see his uninvited visitor.

Closing the door as softly as he had opened it, Boromir took a step towards the bed. “Were you reading a bed-time story?” Aragorn inhaled as if to reply, but the intruder kept talking. “I have a story for you all of my own." He took a deep breath. "Seventeen years ago my father sent me on a scouting mission to North Ithilien. I wanted to make him proud and prove that I was a worthy soldier. I was twenty-three years old, but I still went to Ithilien like a boy playing war with his friends.” Realizing he was still holding onto the lantern, he set it down on a wooden table next to the bed. “I felt important and strong, while strutting through the forests and seeing nothing of importance.” 

Boromir sighed. “One night, we were ambushed. Black riders started hunting us for half a night, screeching like demons from another world, cutting mercilessly through my men. My horse threw me off and I ran away through the woods.” Boromir’s eyes grew distant as he was reliving the memories. “One of the riders followed my trail, but when I strayed off the path I tumbled down a hill until wet, muddy ground broke my fall. I didn’t even realize my leg was broken. Fear had taken over me and I could feel my hunter right above, sniffing in the darkness.” Aragorn hadn’t tried to interrupt him another time. He just sat there, leaning against the headboard of his bed, fixing the other man with his steel grey eyes. “Just when I realized how far north these black riders had driven me, that the stench that was filling my nostrils must be the foul odour of the Dead Marshes, that I was going to die and there wasn’t any hope … a hand closed over my mouth. A stranger’s voice whispered into my ear that I needed to calm my breathing, for the black riders could smell my fear.”

Even now, the memory made Boromir hold his breath for a moment. “A little while later the black rider broke off the chase, but as his screams started getting lost in the night, I felt myself drifting off into the darkness, too.” The lantern flickered, casting a shadow over both of their faces. “When I woke up after what felt like days, I found myself in a makeshift shelter made out of reeds, right in the middle of the Dead Marshes. The stranger was cowering over me, taking care of my broken leg that he had already bandaged and put into wooden splints. When he asked me what had led me to this wretched place, I told him all about my scouting mission; when I asked him in return, he surprised me with his honesty. He was searching for a creature that had vital information about the evils that were growing stronger deep inside Mordor – and he wouldn’t rest until he found them. I was unable to move and had to lie low, but my health was improving only very slowly in that place of the Dead. The stranger went out every night, hunting for that mysterious creature whose higher purpose I could hardly imagine. At daytime we remained hidden, eating the scarce food he had found on his forays and talking, talking about the world outside to make us forgot about the ghastly place we were stranded in with the dead floating in its shallow waters and those eerie fires glowing in the distance. We reminded each other of the warmth of the sun, the wind rustling through the trees and blue skies above us. After ten days had passed, we started talking about our families. We both had lost a parent, tried to follow in the footsteps of a father we hardly knew and felt a responsibility for our people that sometimes seemed impossible to endure. When the rain started pouring down on us and I started freezing and shivering, he drew me close and kept me warm.”

Lost in thought, Boromir sat down on the bed, resting his elbows onto his knees. “One night, he shook me awake – rougher than he had ever done before. When I saw the urgency on his face, I knew what had happened. That creature he was searching for had finally shown its face, and now the time had come for him to fulfil his mission. I nodded in silence, so he grabbed his sword and made to leave, but we both froze when heard those ghastly screeches.” Boromir sighed deeply. “They were back. We didn’t know if they were hunting that creature, too, but we didn’t even dare to consider the alternative. The stranger – my friend – was staring at me, his conflicting choices slowly tearing him apart. I wouldn’t let him fail his mission because of me, so I nodded another time, trying to look confident, persuading him that I would take care of myself. With one last, regretful look, he disappeared.” 

Boromir’s gaze drifted to the window, towards the crescent moon high up in the black sky. “I was lying there in the mud, hoping against better judgment that they wouldn’t find me, but they drew ever closer and closer, their screams getting louder, the hooves of their horses shaking the ground. My fear must have visible to them like a beacon in the night. Even as I was reliving the terror I so narrowly escaped not long ago, I realized that this time I felt different. There was still hope in my heart, a certain kind of hope that wasn’t entirely my own.”

Slowly Boromir turned towards Aragorn, their grey eyes fixing each other. “Three black riders came to a halt right in front of me, dismounting their horses, drawing their swords – when a blazing torch shot through the darkness. A black cloak caught fire and blinded me for a moment, so I could only hear clashing swords and flying sparks, but when the riders started screaming once again, they finally appeared to feel the terror and dread they used to bring down upon others. After they had escaped back into the night and my eyes got used to the darkness again, I saw my friend towering above me. Before I could say anything, he dropped his sword, fell to his knees and hugged me into a tight embrace.”

“I will never forget the way he looked at me in this moment”, Boromir said while moving closer to Aragorn until their faces were only inches apart. “I will never forget how fast his heart beat as he drew me close to him”, he said as he gently put his hand onto Aragorn’s bare chest. “I never forgot that first kiss.” Their lips met, scruffy and raw. 

“Neither did I”, Aragorn replied.


End file.
